


Same Shit, Different Day

by Laina_Inverse



Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fluff in first chapter smut in second, Seriously this started as a PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:12:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8393926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laina_Inverse/pseuds/Laina_Inverse
Summary: One would THINK having her best friend back would make life easier. But now Blue's old feelings for Johnny are starting to bubble back up, and if there's one thing she can do, it's avoid things. So she avoids them. And him. For his part, Gat does not appreciate being avoided. Ater learning some... interesting facts from Pierce, he decides to take the first steps in bridging the gap.





	1. Fluff

It should have been so straightforward. Rescue Gat. Best friend back. Be, if not _happy_ , at least marginally more secure in the fact that Zinyak was going to die in the near future. The _very_ near future.

It wasn't _easy_ , fuck no, but it was doable. Blue didn't even care that it meant Zinyak thought Johnny was the greater threat, in the end, she had her best friend back.

Except now _emotions_ were coming into it. And not platonic 'I kill shit with you and love that because it's fucking fun, and your ass knows how to handle a gun, thank _god_.' but actual 'Oh fuck, he's hot' emotions. Worse, 'If he vanishes again, it might kill me.' was not just limited to Shaundi.

Which was not good. Blue had lived through Stillwater _and_ Steelport not acting on those sorts of emotions, damnit. Stillwater held Aisha, and memories of Aisha. Too many to want to intrude upon. Steelport had been no Johnny. And the Presidency? Pffft, she'd been too busy! She had convinced herself, _forced_ herself, to believe that all her heartache was from the loss of the deadliest best friend she had ever had. She'd even been able, a few times, to look back on certain moments and feel amusement more than pain. She _had_ been healing, goddamnit.

But now... It was getting harder and harder to lie to herself. There was no Aisha now. Johnny was on the ship with them, or in the simulation kicking ass and saying fuck it to the names. Nothing was between them... except...

She muttered a few choice curses in French as she glared down at the streets of fake Steelport from the highest vantage point she could get without jumping to a Tower. This fucking sucked, and she didn't know a damn thing she could do about it except... avoid him.

“Hey Boss, you okay in there?”

“Fine, Kinzie. Just taking a breather.”

“....okay.”

There was a tone to Kinzie's communication that suggested the other woman wasn't buying it, but as long as she wasn't prying, Blue was willing to let it slide. It wasn't like she _wanted_ to talk about this. Not with Kinzie, not with Ben, not with _anyone_ if she could avoid it.

And avoiding shit was what Blue did best these days.

 

-

 

To say Johnny Gat was perturbed was putting it mildly. Blue had seemed fine. Normal... well, normal for her, at least, when she'd hauled him through that Genki-Bowl thing for the fun of killing shit with friends. Sure, they'd had some touchy-feely conversations that Miller had eavesdropped on, but on the whole, getting out and killing shit, even fake shit, had been a ball.

But now she seemed... well... _weird_. She brooded when she was on the ship, which wasn't typical behavior. And she wasn't talking much. Once she had stopped being so freaked out by leading the Saints to victory, it had sometimes been hard to make her shut _up_ , so this was definitely beyond strange. And brooding? Shit, Blue was a _doer_ , not a thinker!

Five years... maybe seven? He supposed people could change in that time, especially since she'd become President and all, but this seemed different somehow. More personal.

Well, there were two people he could ask that had watched her for the past half a decade or whatever. Of the two, he decided to start with Pierce; nothing against Shaundi, but pretty much everyone had told him how busted up she was over his 'death' on that stupid plane. And when Shaundi focused, she got pretty tunnel vision-y, so he wasn't so sure that her views of Blue over the past years would be as clear.

Pierce was, as usual, in the lounge of the ship, hat cocked to one side, and a NyteBlayde comic—fuck, he still kind of wanted to shoot Birk for fucking up the initial bank heist—in hand. He looked up when Johnny walked in though, and half-closed the comic curiously.

“Yo Pierce.”

“Sup Johnny?”

“Gotta question for ya. You think Blue's avoidin me?”

“Uh... probably? She avoids everyone these days,” Pierce said after a minute. “Says no one can handle a gun right, even in a fake world, so she takes care of everythin herself.”

Johnny grimaced.

“Not like that, dumbass.”

“Well, like what, then?”

“....look, you ain't stupid, you've had to have a steady or two. This feels... kinda like that, only she ain't talkin.”

Pierce stared for a moment, looked around the room cautiously, then sighed.

“A'right, you didn't hear _any_ of this shit from me, got it? Blue threatened to drop me off a skyscraper if I blabbed.”

Johnny flopped into a chair, raising an eyebrow curiously. Pierce grimaced.

“You know Shaundi was all fucked up over what happened. It made her a bit more badass than normal, which, I _guess_ was a step up. But it hit Blue pretty hard too. I mean, we joke that she's always pissed off, but it wasn't the usual 'I'll cap your ass and chill the fuck out', anger. And it wasn't like Shaundi's either, lashin out at pretty much everyone... Nah, Boss went cold as fuckin ice a few times. Some scary-ass shit.”

Johnny frowned a little, leaning back in the egg-chair, and nodded slightly; when Miller had loaded up that virtual Phillipe Loren, Blue's 'happy' murderface had settled into the most neutral expression he'd ever seen from her, before shifting into the iciest. That hadn't been typical Blue behavior. And she had gone _after_ Loren with her favorite bat, no super-powers, no gun, nothing. She might'velet him have the last shot, but she had done some serious damage before that point.

“After we dropped that giant disco ball on him, and took over that tower of Loren's, Boss went out and got real piss drunk. She was _furious_ about not gettin to actually shoot him in the head n'shit,” Pierce continued. “Came back to the penthouse stumblin into walls,and trippin on stairs, and all out ragin 'bout what she didn't get t'do to Loren. _Way_ worse than Shaundi. I hid behind the bar when she started throwin shit.... lucky me, the place was mostly empty cause everyone else was out doin shit, and once I dropped outta sight it was like she forgot I was there. She started... talkin.”

And now Pierce looked decidedly uncomfortable. Johnny's eyebrows went up again, and he leaned forward in the chair.

“Talkin like you were there,” he clarified. “Apologizin. Sayin... shit that'll get me killed if she finds out, okay?”

“Look, I ain't gonna tell her you talked 'bout this,” Johnny said, curious and annoyed all at once. “So just spit it the fuck out.”

“She liked you, man. Way more than just friends likin friend,” Pierce said, his words rushed. “Talkin 'bout how she was glad you had Aisha, but she was jealous _of_ her, and how she kinda hated herself for bein glad Aisha wasn't there no more, even though she knew how hard that shit hit you. Angry cause she hadn't said nothin b'fore cause she didn't want to wreck shit. Too scared t'change the status quo, or somethin like that.”

Johnny sat back, stunned. Oh sure, he'd thought about it casually, but Blue had never put out any sort of recognizable signal that she might've wanted more than just being murder-friends. And it was hard to imagine Blue being freaked out, especially by something like that...

Then again, he'd never actually seen her express any sort of physical interest in anyone, and her emotions had always been on a pretty tight lockdown, even from the start. She might not've always had the finest grasp on _technology_ , but psychology? She was terrifyingly smart. Hell, she'd swiped the gang right out from underneath Julius without even _trying_. Which was funny, considering that she hadn't even meant to do it.

“Course after that she found me in my hiding spot and threatened to drop me from a chopper if I didn't keep my mouth shut and get the hell out. Blue high is fun. Blue piss drunk and grieving? Scariest shit you ever seen, man...”

“Chicks are always scary,” Johnny said a little wryly. “ _Specially_ when they're pissed.”

“And can wield a two by four that'll take off your head...”

“Hey, she ain't gonna hear about this from me. Chill. And, y'know. Thanks.”

Pierce nodded, though he still looked a bit edgy, and practically dove back into his comic while Johnny stood up and went back to the corner of the ship that was considered his area. Absently he picked up one of those pieces of wood that Kinzie had gotten from god only knows where, and pulled out his knife; whittling it into a tiny shape would help give his own thoughts some structure on the matter, and maybe he could figure out what he should do with this new information.

It wasn't like the idea of her being attracted to him hadn't been brought up before; it had. But she had shut it down so quickly that he hadn't really thought about it hard. Not to mention it had been a _damn_ long time since then. Who was to say that she still thought that way? But that would make sense; she wasn't just avoiding calling him into the sim—as Pierce had said, she pretty much didn't call _anyone_ in, though she didn't pitch a fit if they jumped in on their own—she was avoiding talking to him on the ship.

And that was just too annoying to let stand, really. If it'd been just the sim, sure, okay, he could go in on his own and pound shit, and she'd probably laugh about it. But not on the ship. That just wasn't cool. Made for bad working relations, and... damnit, if he had to admit it, he missed hearing her snide, sardonic comments. And okay, maybe her accent was kind of hot too.

He looked down at the half-whittled shape in his hand, recognizing the faint form of a curled up cat after a moment. That was Blue all over, right down to the 'don't touch me or I'll claw your arm up' claws. Question was, did he want to risk getting those claws used on him, or not?

He muttered a curse or three, putting the knife and the half-finished cat away. They'd been friend too long for this to stand, and she had jumped headfirst into his sim to get him out of it. _Against_ the wishes of the two tech-geeks that were part of the Saints roster at the moment. Not to mention personally tracking him down as he murdered his way through the ship and risking getting stabbed herself by coming unarmored through the door at him.

So if confronting her on this crap was the way to help her, then damnit, he would... just as soon as he figured out _how._ Because he _knew_ Blue; if she learned that he'd heard about this from Pierce, Pierce's life wouldn't be worth a dime. And he didn't doubt Blue remembered at least threatening Pierce about keeping a secret, even if she didn't herself remember what it was...

While she might not _kill_ him—actually, she definitely wouldn't, he knew— _pounding_ on Pierce wasn't exactly out of the question. And Johnny called her 'Bluebell' for a reason; she had a swing that would make a guys' head ring like he'd stuck it in a church bell.

But subtle wasn't exactly in his repertoire.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, heading for the stairs. “Let's see what's goin on first.”

The answer was: a whole lot of nothing. Blue was tucked into one of the bed... things that hooked back into the simulation. Kinzie was parked at one terminal, Matt at another, but neither one of them was looking particularly interested in what was going on.

“Yo. Jack me in.”

Kinzie blinked and looked up.

“Going in to do the stuff the Boss isn't?” she asked.

“Sure,” Johnny shrugged. “Let's go with that.”

 

-

 

There wasn't a decent sky above fake Steelport, mostly because Zinyak's stupid ship was in the way... but also because there were three different moons, and absolutely no stars. Blue missed the stars; she had been a country girl before Stillwater, and one habit she had never lost was looking at the stars for strength.

“This is bullshit,” she muttered, getting up. “Brooding isn't getting anything done.”

“ _'ey yo, Blue. Where you at?_ ”

“Johnny?” She blinked in surprise, and took a glance at what Kinzie had called a mini-map; this simulation was full of weirdly useful things like that. She didn't see any large purple triangle that indicated he was close by, but... “What're you doing here?”

“ _Got bored. Wanted to kill shit. You in?_ ”

“....yeah. Sure. Why not? Where are you?”

“ _Map thing says Bridgeport._ ”

“All right.”

Killing things was easier than thinking about them. And when it came to Johnny, he was definitely tough enough to handle whatever the sim could throw _at_ him without needing a lot of extra help.

So Blue got up, super jumped off the building, and glided her way towards Bridgeport. Her landing as less than adroit, but she had the reflexes—at least in this fake world—to turn the graceless landing into a neat tuck and roll that hid the failure. And to give him credit, Johnny only smirked at her instead of making a smartass comment.

“So, what did you have in mind?”

“Let's go murder some Zin.”

She pulled up the 'menu' screen and looked on the map for the nearest flashpoint; with Johnny as backup, this was going to be _fun_.

And she was _not_ going to let herself think about anything else.

 

-

 

It had always been fun to kill shit with Blue. Her baseball bat, and habit of just straight up kicking the shit out of, oh, _everything,_ was always fun to watch. She had always been way more physically into fights than most everyone else; if there was an opportunity to use the baseball bat, she took it. Granted, in reality, she'd been shot so many times they had joked about needing a magnet to get all the bullets out, but it had never stopped her for very long.

He'd never really thought to wonder _why_ she might be like that.

The question got pushed away pretty quick as they went from flashpoint to flashpoint, killing virtual Zin and claiming pieces of territory for virtual Saints instead. Killing shit was _fun_ , damnit, and killing shit with the best friend was even more so.

When they'd finished off five, Blue held up a hand for a break.

“What, you getting _old_ , girl?”

“Super powers or not, I _will_ chuck you off the dock,” she threatened.

“But you're all _tired_ ,” he mocked gently. “You'd have ta catch me first.”

“Gaaaaat....” the drawl was accompanied by a glare that was just shy of actively hostile. “I _will_.”

He grinned and held up his hand.

“Aw'right, aw'right, truce. You still suck at takin jokes about age.”

“You're _older_ than me,” she pointed out. “It's not _my_ fault I wasn't stuck in a tank for five years.”

The jab hit home, and he looked away, not sure whether he was being insulted or complimented.

“Merde....” he heard her curse. “That's _not_ what I meant. Sorry.”

Blue's apology was enough of a surprise to make him glance at her; she used to be shit at them, so she almost never offered one. She did look angry, but there was remorse there too. After a moment, he waved his hand lightly.

“Whatever; so what _did_ you mean?”

“I...” she looked away. “Nothing. It's not important.”

“Y'know, I'm thinkin it is...”

“Thinking isn't exactly your strongest suit,” she retorted.

He was tempted to snap back, say something cutting about their shared history, but managed to bite his tongue in time. He _knew_ Blue... she had a reason she was riling him up, and he had to not let her if he wanted to get more out of this sim jump than just territory.

Besides, she _was_ right. So instead, after a moment, he shrugged acknowledgment.

“Okay, so maybe it ain't. Still. _Somethin's_ buggin ya.”

“That's why you came in,” Blue said, giving him a narrow-eyed stare. “Not just to kill shit. I appreciate the concern, Johnny, but I'm fine.”

“Yeah?Then why don't you talk to me no more?”

Thoughtful became confused, and a little bit wary.

“We are talking right now...”

“That ain't what I mean, and you damn well know it, Blue,” he snapped. “Look, I know your two techno-geeks didn't want you ta pull me out of my sim, but you did it anyways. Why'd you do it if you're not even gonna hang out like we used to?”

She shifted backwards slightly, clearly startled by his vehemence.

“You're my best friend. I owed you that rescue. And I owed it to Shaundi to get you back too...”

“You ain't the owin type Blue.”

Surprise faded back into wariness, and there was a hint of hostility now.

“You don't think I can change in six years, is that it, Gat?” and there was frost in her tone, not the heat he'd expected. Blue's temper was _explosive_ , but this...

Johnny sighed, and held up his hands. If he didn't calm her back down, he'd never get to say a damn thing about the whole point behind jumping in.

“Nah. You changed plenty from first time we met til last I saw ya. But you're tellin me you didn't come in fer yourself? Not even a little?”

Blue made an exasperated sound, running a hand through the deep blue afro.

“I already said that you're my best friend,” she snapped. “O course I went in for myself. There's never been anyone else _like_ you, Johnny....”

Abruptly she turned away.

“I'm going back to the ship. Have fun.”

A split second to react; his super speed against her super jump. The collision knocked them both into the fake water, and Blue came up with a splutter of pure annoyance.

“What the _hell?_ ”

“You're ignorin me on the ship, Blue,” he retorted, hand wrapped around her wrist. “We need ta talk, but you ain't, so I'm gonna. We can do it _on_ the ship, where we'll get us some privacy, or we can do it here, where your two techies are listenin in and probably recordin.”

The flurry of French wasn't something he understood outside the swears... But the tone was vicious enough that he wanted to cover his crotch with his other hand; Blue had a _mean_ kick, and even if it didn't translate over to reality, a kick in the balls was a kick in the balls.

“Fine,” she finally snarled. “We'll talk on the ship. Kinzie! Tell CID to find somewhere else to float idly for a time!”

“Ah, yeah Boss... Sure!”

“...happy? Want to let me go now?”

After a moment, Johnny shrugged and did so.

“Sure. We're gonna be on the same ship.”

She bared her teeth in a gesture more snarl than grin.

“ _Why_ did I want to rescue you again?” she muttered. “You're such a dick.”

“My charming personalt-”

She shoved him under the water, using him as a springboard for her jump to shore. This time it was Johnny's turn to come up in a splutter of fake water, just in time to watch her super-speed her way off towards the nearest portal.

“Um... Johnny, just what _are_ you doing?” Matt asked tentatively.

“Probably getting my ass kicked,” he said as he returned to shore. “No eavesdroppin. Got it, kid?”

“Yes, yes, I've got it. Just... be careful?” Matt's voice lowered. “She's _really_ annoyed.... I think I'll be glad she doesn't have super powers in real life...”

Despite the fact that he knew he'd be walking into an explosive situation, the comment made Johnny laugh in agreement.

 

-

 

Blue's temper was on the short side of civil. Matt had cringed as she'd come off the bed, and Kinzie had been nowhere in sight. On the bright side, this meant that CID was _also_ nowhere in sight when she stomped into the room the floating eyeball typically occupied. The one with the mattresses. _Why_ he'd chosen that one...

She yanked her thoughts away from the question; Johnny had succeeded in backing her into a conversational corner. She didn't like that. There were things she wasn't ready to say, things she was _never_ going to be ready to say... And he wanted to.. what.. _talk_? Johnny wasn't one to talk. They had that in common; when it came to conversation versus explosions, explosions _always_ won.

There wasn't enough space in the tiny room to pace. But fortunately, Johnny wasn't the type to keep a girl waiting either; not even two minutes after she'd stomped in, he was there too, looking far calmer than he had any right to look, damn him.

“What is there to talk about?” she demanded as the door cycled closed behind him. “Do you want every intimate detail on how the Saints suffered after you vanished?!”

“Not everyone. Just you.”

She hadn't expected the directness of the comment, and it made her catch her breath in shock. For a moment she stared at him, then abruptly looked away, at the cold metal wall.

“There's nothing to say on that subject,” she said, trying hard to keep her voice flat.

“I think there is,” he retorted, moving closer. “You're always tellin me Shaundi suffered, and hintin Pierce did too. But you ain't never said a damn thing about how you dealt with it, and I'm thinkin ya didn't.”

“Why're we talking about this?” she demanded, knowing her tone was defensive now, that she was trying to put distance between them, but the room was too damn _small_. “There's no point to it! You're _not_ dead, and...”

Her voice caught; she couldn't make herself look at him as the memories rose, unbidden. She hated her vivid memory sometimes... Blue swallowed hard, and clenched her hands tightly.

“Look, you said I'm your best friend,” and his voice surprised her by being gentle. “Best friends talk about shit that bugs em, and don't judge...”

“At least not out loud,” she muttered.

“I ain't gonna lie; trapped in that hellhole, I did kinda forget you existed. It was like you were never in my life with the way that thing was run. Every time... runnin in ta save Aisha.... I knew someone was missin. Someone who'd always had my back. But I couldn't remember who til ya broke me outta it, Blue. Don't that say somethin?”

She took in a slow breath. Let it out.

“You don't want to hear what I have to say,” she said flatly.

His hands touched her chin, turning her face towards him. Normally she hated being touched by anyone, but Johnny had always been able to get away with this sort of shit. So she looked, reluctantly, and got another surprise; Johnny had tipped up the omnipresent sunglasses so that she could _actually_ look him in the eye.

“I do,” he said firmly. “Cause Shaundi's better, if crazy-protective now. You though? Shit, Blue, unless we're murderin shit in the sim, we ain't talkin. It's not exactly somethin either f'us are good at, but I'm tryin. You wanna try too? Or should I just walk on out, and consider our friendship over?”

“I...”

She went quiet. Sighed. Pulled away from his hand. Emotional extortion was such bullshit.

“I'll... try,” she said, somewhere between sulky and defensive. “But don't expect too much.”

“A'right. C'mon. Sit.”

They perched on the mattress together, and Blue folded her hands loosely between her knees, staring down at the floor. She didn't _want_ to talk about it, but neither did she want to give up the friendship that had carried her through most of the shit that had started in her early twenties.

“What'd you do?” he asked.

“I drank,” she said quietly. “Not always to the point of blacking out, but I got pretty wasted on a regular basis. Killed shit. Smoked shit.... I tried to find something to replace... that spot where you were. I figured you'd be pissed if I just wallowed in guilt and grief, so I tried to keep it light, relaxed... You know...” and Blue's lips quirked slightly in a pained smile. “No one ever questioned it, so I guess my act worked. I only really screwed up one time... scared the shit out of Pierce, I think... There was always so much I thought I could say if I'd just had more time. But... merde...”

“Like what?”

She scoffed a little.

“Nothing important now.”

“No, I think it is,” and Johnny's voice surprised her with how thoughtful it was. “I mean, if you've been sittin on it this long, it's gotta be big. Just spit it out, Blue. I ain't gonna judge.”

“Yes, you say this _now_...”

“...well, if it'ssomethin funny, I might tease ya about it,” he offered.

Despite the heavy mood, she had to smile, even huffed out a sound that was almost a laugh.

“You're such an asshole. It's not fair.”

“Aww, but that's one of my most loveable traits.”

Now she snorted, and glanced sideways at him. After a moment, she freed a hand and slugged his arm, very lightly.

“No, what's... loveable about your annoying ass is that your attitude is a good cover for the fact that you're a nice person underneath it all.”

“Aw, hey, c'mon, why you gotta insult me like that?”

His expression suggested mock-wounding, and she chuckled a little.

“Because it's fun. Besides, it's true.” Blue went quiet for a moment. “You know, after I woke up from my coma, and we started trying to fix shit with the Saints again, I ended up being jealous of Aisha. And then I hated myself because she was killed and it was sort of my fault for starting all that shit off again, so I buried it. I told myself that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that you'd look at me the way you used to look at her, and it wasn't fair to her memory if I said something.”

It was like the words had minds of her own; now that she had started, it was almost impossible to stop speaking. The need to vent _everything_ was stronger than her need to preserve her dignity.

“So I stayed silent. Even long after we took over Ultror and the Saints went from street gang to money machine. Shit. We shouldn't have done that, you know? Getting in over our heads with that, getting complacent; there wasn't anyone we could pay off, no rivals could touch our turf... I should've known better. I thought... I thought I'd have plenty of time. I'd work out what I could say, I would, and then I'd say it, and maybe you'd think I was a dumbass, but maybe you wouldn't and I'd at least _know_ , but there was never a moment that seemed... right. And sometimes it seemed like Sahundi's hero-worship was turning into a big time crush. Who was I to get in the way of that? I _liked_ how we worked together... in the end, I didn't want that to change. I would rather have watched you be happy, and stayed a silent friend than ruin a good working relationship.

“And then it seemed like Loren killed you. All my chances for... _anything_... all gone. You've always been in here,” and lightly she thumped her breastbone with a fist, though she was no longer looking at him, “and I never believed that crap about two people making a whole person; I _am_ a whole person, damnit. But you're a part of what made me that person, and maybe you were even a crutch for that person... Because without you, my purpose narrowed to the goal of killing Loren. I didn't give two shits about Steelport, the Deckers, the Luchadore, or the Morningstar. I wanted Phillipe Loren dead, and when that was done, I wanted to go home.

“Killbane didn't let me go home. There was no quiet funeral procession, no sharing of memories or grand speeches.... Instead there was vengeance, and destroying every last bit of the Syndicate I could get my hands on. Because you were the most important part of me and mine. Revenge was hollow, and I didn't even fully get it in the end...”

She folded her hands again, and closed her eyes, waiting; now he finally knew the truth of the matter. Whatever people said about Johnny Gat, he wasn't slow, or stupid. Maybe oblivious at times, but then, she had never gone out of her way to show him any signs of wanting beyond what she had. Because she had spoken God's own truth; if he was happy, she would not interfere. Never.

The silence was thick. Almost too much to bear. But she didn't open her eyes, didn't look up. She had said her piece. Now she just waited to hear his reply.

Johnny didn't know _what_ to say to that, really. It was sort of stunning to hear her lay it out so bluntly after all that fuss, but she had always been a straightforward sort of person.

“Shit, Blue,” he finally said. “You've been sittin on that for this long?”

“Yes.”

“Because you wanted what was best for me, and the Saints, and not you?”

“Yes.”

“...you gonna punch me if I hug your stupid ass?”

“Y-what?”

Her head came up, which was a bit of a relief; the dejected, beat down pose was _not_ Blue.

“You gonna punch me if I hug your stupid ass?” he repeated.

“I..eh... ah...” She blinked a few times, staring at him in surprise. “You want to... hug me?”

He scoffed a little.

“You are hot as fuck, woman. I wanna do a _lot_ more than just hug you, but I'd kinda like some guarantee I'm not gonna get my head punched in if I do. Considerin how much you hate bein touched and all.”

It was actually kind of _funny_ seeing her at a complete loss for words. It had happened so rarely, after all.

“Then... you're... okay with this?”

“Yeah.”

“I...” a half smile, disbelieving, started at one corner of her mouth, then worked across her face. “Well... okay then. I guess. Sure. Hug away?”

He pulled her upright, and made the hug a tight one; after moments of passivity, her hands crept up and curled in the fabric of his shipsuit. Not that there was much loose fabric; he filled the thing out a damn sight better than pretty much anyone. Her hair smelled faintly of the oils necessary for her hair care—where, he wondered absently, did Kinzie get _any_ of the shit they actually needed?—and the curls were soft against his skin as she pressed her face against the side of his neck.

Under his hands he could feel the tight muscles of her back that slowly relaxed bit by bit as he made no indication that he was interested in letting her go. And to be certain, he damn well wasn't. Blue's aversion to being touched was _legendary_ , so he was going to take advantage of the permission as long as he could. Hugging was just the start.

But when he felt her start to pull back a little, he loosened his grip; he didn't _think_ he was freaking her out, but he wasn't about to try and hold her against her will. But she only leaned back enough to look at his face. He'd half expected her eyes to be wet, but then, Blue had never been big on tears, emotional moments or not.

“I can't replace Aisha. And I wouldn't want to. But... do you think we have a shot at this?”

He blinked. Grinned a little. And lightly rested his forehead against hers. He'd never really noticed her eyes were that shade of purple-blue before... They looked good against the brown skin.

“Yeah, Blue. I think we got _more_ than a shot.”

They leaned in at the same moment; for Blue the kiss was not stars and fireworks... but it was warm and surprisingly tender. Proof that you could fight with someone, have their back, and still not know them intimately.

And good god damn was she more than ready to know him intimately. Desire rushed through her system, and she pushed herself closer, wanting nothing more than him. He pulled back briefly, and reluctantly she let him; he had done the same for her.

But he only grinned at her again.

“Think we can lock the door for a bit?”

Blue couldn't help but grin back.

“Yeah. I think we can.”

 


	2. Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning!

Securing the door took no time at all, really; they were both more than eager for actual uninterrupted privacy, and there was no guarantee that they wouldn't find a better time than the moment they were in. Johnny was quick to pull her back into kissing, letting his hands move up and down her back, tracing what he could feel of her muscles through the fabric. Ble imitated him, melting into the kiss, but her own touches were more... cautious. After a moment, Johnny leaned back a little.

“You _have_ done this before, right?” he asked, one eyebrow going up.

“.....maybe....”

“You have _got_ to be shittin me...”

“Oh shut up,” she huffed. “One, I hate being touched, and two, absolutely no one could drive me crazy in the same way as you do.”

He snorted a little, then smirked.

“Guess this means I've got my work cut out for me.”

“That sounded vaguely threatening.”

The smirk widened, and his hands moved down to lightly squeeze her ass. Blue squeaked, and jumped, reflexively pushing herself a bit more up against Johnny.

“Oh, maybe,” he drawled, all amusement now. “Just a little. First things first, though. You gonna be okay with all the touchin?”

She let out a faint breath; his hands hadn't _moved_ , and they were sending all sorts of conflicting thoughts through her brain.

“If I get uncomfortable, I'll let you know,” she promised. “Now shut up and kiss me again, you ass.”

His smirk turned wry, and after a moment, he obliged.

For someone with minimal experience, Blue was a damn good kisser. She was just as enthusiastic about it as he was, and as he knew she would, she picked things up damn quick. Granted she had made friends with some of the prostitutes over the years, who had told her _many_ different things about sex, which helped.

It was _weird_ , really, to think of her as a virgin. Then again, he really never _had_ seen her show a remote interest in anyone. Johnny couldn't help but feel slightly smug that she'd chosen him. _He_ was going to get to see every last bit of her. And he was damn well going to put his _hands_ all over her, if not his mouth. Starting with her neck and working his way down.

She jumped a little as he ran her lips along the side of her neck, stopping to nip occasionally at her skin. He stilled briefly, but when she said nothing, he kept going, trailing kisses and nips alone her collarbone and then back up the other side. It made him smirk to feel her grip on him tighten, and to hear the faintest catch in her breathing.

But oh, she wasn't going to let him get away with _that_. He was in the perfect position fer her to nip back, after all. Maybe not as much as he was, but she wasn't going to let this one slide. Johnny only upped the ante by giving her the first of _many_ hickeys, and carefully slid one hand around to just lightly run along the undersides of her breasts.

They both learned rapidly just how quickly the shipsuits could be gotten rid of, and they both took several minutes at arms length to just... admire the other.

Blue was muscular; Johnny had known that for years, but he hadn't realized just _how_ muscular. Usually, he only saw her badass arms. She was toned all over, strong, and undaunted by it. It was damn hot.

“Didn't you used to have tattoos?” he asked, taking a slow look down and then back up.

She shrugged, and there was a faintly embarrassed expression on her face.

“I got rid of most of them when I ran for President,” she admitted. “I kept the Saints' Fleur, but as jewelry instead of on my skin. Yours have gone too, I see...”

Her fingers came up and lightly stroked the side of his neck where the old Saints tattoo had once been. It was startlingly sensual, and he felt the shiver that crawled down his spine. Judging by the tiniest of smirks, she did too.

“Man, I paid good money for that ink. Gonna have to figure out a way to get new ones...”

“There are... other ways to decorate.”

His eyebrows went up.

“You _sure_ you ain't actually done this before?”

“I am not versed in the practical side of it... but I have always made friends easily with the prostitutes, and they give me very good, interesting advice for such times.”

Johnny was no slouch in the buff department either; his years in the tank hadn't altered his physique from the strong friend she was used to, who sometimes had more muscle than brain. Blue abruptly stepped forward, sliding her arms around Johnny's waist, wanting to _feel_ all of him with a sharp intensity.

And despite smartass commentary back from her first days as a Saint, he was _definitely_ well hung.

Since she seemed to want it, he held her close. His hands drifted lightly over her skin, feeling scars and tight muscles, tracing the lines of her body to push her even closer to him. Her touches were less hesitant now, and he felt her tracing a familiar stab wound for a few moments, before she moved on to another injury he remembered less well.

He didn't want her to dwell on those old memories any more than he actually wanted to remember them. So he elected to distract her by running a hand up her thigh until he was cupping one breast. She let out a faintly breathless sound as he brushed her nipple with the pad of his thumb, then again when he brought his other hand up for the same thing. Not every woman had a sensitive chest, but he found he was lucky; she was shivering a little, just from the light touch, and he used that to coax her to lay down on the large mattress. Funny it might be in the short term if she fell over, but knowing her, she'd probably take him with, and then they'd _both_ be injured.

Besides, laying down gave him easier access to... well.. _everything_ without bending into uncomfortable positions, or kneeling down.

When he replaced one of his hands with his mouth, she arced slightly in both surprise and pleasure. It was one thing to hear such things being spoken of, but it was something else entirely to experience it. And his free hand was _not_ idle. As he teased her with his tongue, his fingers traced down over her stomach, and then back up. Then down, and up again. She squirmed a little because it _tickled_ , but she didn't want him to stop either.

His hand moved from her belly to her outer thigh, just continuing those long, soft strokes. Blue was not as vocal as Aisha, clearly, but that wasn't necessarily a _bad_ thing. It just meant he could keep looking up into her face and seeing the results. The breathy little pants and soft moans were erotic as hell, too.

“Like that?”

“If you... keep teasing me, I swear...I will bite you.”

Her accent had thickened, and he smirked a little, giving one nipple a light tweak to make her whimper slightly.

“Kinky~.”

Her glare lacked any heat, but he was pretty sure she was attempting the 'peel paint from the pavement' scowl.

“Jackass.”

“...just don't wanna hurt you, Blue.”

His fingers trailed up, and caressed as he leaned up to kiss her again. She made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan as he slid a careful finger in among the damp folds, delicately stroking her clit. Her fingertips dug into his back lightly as he teased her further, hips rocking almost involuntarily against his fingers as she whimpered, feeling pleasure building low in her belly.

He started kissing downward again, lightly teasing her, but denying her that release. This first one, he was going to make as big as fucking possible. He _wanted_ to blow her mind, and thanks to Aisha, he knew just how to do that. Blue made a faintly protesting sound as he shifted himself downward, trailing kisses and nips; he left a hickey between her breasts, and another to the left of her navel. He slid his tongue along the rim of her belly button, then down, until it was his mouth and tongue teasing her clit, and he had slid one finger carefully inside her.

Oh, but she didn't last long with that combination. A French explicative slid out as she felt the pleasure simply burst out of her; her back arced, and she gripped what she could of the mattress, since Johnny himself was not within reach.

As she came down, he moved back up to see what she would do; it only surprised him a little when she chose to curl up against him; the air of the ship was fairly cool, and at the moment, the both of them were _much_ warmer.

He was _more_ surprised when she smirked up at him through half-lidded eyes, then rolled on top of him. His hands fell reflexively to her hips as she straddled him just those scant centimeters away from his very hard penis, gripping lightly. Looking up at her face, he saw a blend of emotions, and his pulse sped up a bit; he'd seen that look in another face, practically another lifetime.

“You ready for this?”

Because he had to ask; he had to make sure that _she_ was sure.

“Are you?”

He smirked a little; there was Blue, making sure that _he_ was sure, putting him before her. Lightly he massaged her thighs,then his hands crept up to start teasing her boobs again. He wasn't sure who was more surprised, him or her, when she caught one of his hands and pulled it up, pulled _him_ up, just a little so that she could kiss the palm, kiss the inside of his wrist.

“Fuuuck me,”he breathed.

She smirked.

“I'm trying.”

He snaked his arm up around her shoulders and pulled her down to kiss her again, tracing his tongue over hers as he pressed her against his chest. Top, bottom, what did it matter? This was pretty much a moment of pure paradise.

Making out did not distract her, but then, it wasn'tmeant to, just mean to give them both a chance to worm into a better position; he didn't like being flat on his back, though he sure as hell didn't mind letting her be on top. He ended up half-leaning against the wall as she guided herself onto his penis. It felt like it had been forever since he'd been inside a woman, and now it was _this_ woman. Blue. His Blue? Well, maybe... but those were thoughts and questions for a later time.

Getting him in was not as difficult as either one had thought; Johnny's foreplay and teasing had done a very good job in easing the way. It still felt... different; Blue hadn't ever really even liked _tampons_ in her vagina, and had never thought to try anything like masturbatory toys. But it was not different bad, just... _different._

Johnny did not sit idle while she adjusted to the feel of him inside of her; once she was settled, he went right back to kissing and teasing, stroking her back, her ass, her breasts... new hickey's joined the ones already blossoming on her chest and neck, and she returned the favor enthusiastically, her own hands playing over his shoulders, through his hair, and sometimes just tracing delicate touches over his face—neither one was sure when the glasses had made a disappearance, but they had gone at some point, and Blue felt like she could lose herself in Johnny's dark eyes.

“Fuck,” he breathed between kisses. “Likin what you see, Blue?”

“Oui, mon amour. Et toi?”

That was just unfair, reverting to French like that. He was already having enough trouble not busting a nut just from the _feel_ of her. Judging by the smug look, she knew that perfectly well, and was now taking _her_ chance to tease him. He growled a little, and pulled her in for a harder, more passionate kiss, and just lightly rocked his hips. Feeling her gasp, and the way her hands tightened briefly on his shoulders made _him_ smirk.

“Aw yeah.”

She bit him for that one, not that he cared too much about more marks. The slow cadence was almost torturous for him; after so long, he was almost tempted to flip her onto her back and just... take the train to pound-town. But this was more than _just_ sex, and damned if he wasn't going to make a good accounting of himself with her!

Besides, while it may have felt agonizingly slow, it also gave him more time to play with her body; holding back from orgasm when she tightened around him a second time was almost _painful,_ but it was needful too. He wasn't wearing a condom, and until Zinyak was dead, thinking about mini-murderers—children—was a thing best left unmentioned.

Blue, however, was not inclined to agree.

“Do you not _want_?” she asked even as she panted and trembled against his chest.

“Yeah Blue,” and his voice was tight with strain. “But if somethin happens, we sure as hell ain't ready for it.”

“Ah....Yes, I see your point. In that case...”

She slid carefully off him, biting her lip a little to try and stifle the gasp. He groaned, a drawn out sound that he muffled against her shoulder, pulling her up tight against him.

“Blue...”

“Hush, mon amour,” and she ran her fingers through his disheveled hair. Her expression was a mix of impishness and desire. “You take care of me, I take care of you. Oui?”

There weren't too many ways to interpret that, and they shrank exponentially as she carefully slid down until she was between his legs, her fingers very lightly stroking the length of his penis. Up and down, delicate strokes along his inner thighs, delicate little fingertip caresses against his balls.

Blue had listened _very_ well to the tips of the prostitutes. And she was paying Johnny back, just a little, for teasing her in a similar manner earlier. Judging by the low, frentic swearing, she was doing a good job.

Leaning down, she kissed the base of his penis lightly, then slowly, carefully, took him into her mouth. His hips jerked, and she choked a little, pulling back slightly; this was _definitely_ something she would have to.... _practice_ to get properly done. And it felt a little strange to taste... well, herself? Something like that... on him.

Fortunately for her inexperience, Johnny's restraint could only take so much teasing. He swore as he came, his own hands seeking something to grip on to. The flavor of the semen was straight up _weird_ , but spitting it out onto the floor would have been gauche, so Blue swallowed, though she made a face as she did so.

Johnny, once he got his breath back, managed to sit up enough to pull hre back over him; a Blue blanket to keep in the warmth. She was not adverse to it, it seemed, as she snuggled against him far more willingly than she ever had before.

“...we are gonna need actual blankets in here,” he said after a long minute.

“Oui. And more pillows. You make a good one, but,” and she grinned as he made a face at her, “no doubt you would enjoy one too, no?”

“Fuck, right now I could probably pass out on the floor.”

She leaned away slightly and touched the cold metal, then shivered delicately.

“Somehow, I doubt that. But... sleep does not sound like such a bad idea right now. Revenge will still be...” and she paused to tuck her head back down against his shoulder, yawning a little, “there when we are rested.”

“You just read my mind.”

She smiled, and lazily kissed the side of his neck. He responded by draping his arms across her low back.

“Nothing but good dreams, mon amour.”

“...yeah. Why not? Same to ya.”

 


End file.
